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The moment that lasted all weekend

By Robin Dearing
I love my kid. I realize that kind of goes without saying, but there are times that I feel like she was sent to test my patience, self-control and sanity. (The results of these tests are always the same, I have little of any of these admirable traits.) It is at these times that I remember my perpetually even-tempered mom mumbling under her breath, "I hope you have a daughter just like you someday." And I remember the Christmas when Margaret was two. I called my mom moaning that Mar wouldn't open her presents. She laughed at my frustration and said, "She so much like her mother." But then there are those moments when I am like a teacup overfilled with pure unadulterated happiness over the fact that Margaret is my daughter. This past weekend I experienced, not just a moment, but days full of that overfilled feeling. It was glorious. We had the opportunity to spend some time at a friend's cabin. And while she had times when she claimed to have nothing to do, for the majority of the weekend, she delighted in just being … and so did I. Margaret, whom our friend nicknamed Midge, spent time digging rocks out of the dirt and digging rocks out of the “crick.? We talked about the different qualities of the rocks and she learned the word •igneous.? Midge creek.jpg We scrambled over the long grass and through the brush in search of mushrooms • not to eat, but just to look at. We enjoyed the fact that there are so many different shapes, colors and textures of those strangely spongy growths. We sat on the porch at dusk and waited for deer to come down the mountain. We watched our dog frolic through thick foliage in search of mice and chipmunks. We danced while making dinner. We listened to the rain thunder on the roof. We ate peaches and toasted marshmallows over the coals left in the grill. We read and watched movies. We did nothing, yet it felt like everything.